A Young Girl's Wooing eBook

and before the summer was over she thought little
of a gallop of ten miles, with the breath of the Pacific
fanning her cheek. When Mr. Wayland drove with
his wife up through Mission and Hot Springs canons,
or eight miles away to the exquisitely beautiful Bartlett
Canon and the fine adjacent ranches, she accompanied
them on horseback. As she flashed along past
date-palms, and through lemon and orange groves, she
began to appear semi-tropical herself. She also
became Mr. Wayland’s companion on his botanizing
expeditions, and her steps among the rocks of the foothills
and on the slopes of the mountains grew surer, lighter,
and more unwearied. Color stole into her face,
and a soft fire into her dark eyes when animated.
Mrs. Wayland looked on with increasing delight, and
thought, “She is growing very beautiful.
I wonder if she knows it?”

Indeed she knew it well. What young girl does
not? But Madge had a motive for knowledge of
which Mrs. Wayland did not dream. In the main
the girl was her own physician, and observed her symptoms
closely. She knew well what beauty was.
Her vivid fancy would at any time recall Miss Wildmere
as a living presence; therefore her standard was exceedingly
high, and she watched her approach to it as to a distant
and eagerly sought goal. Other eyes gave assurance
that her own were not deceiving her. The invalid
on whom at first but brief and commiserating glances
had been bestowed was beginning to be followed by
admiring observation. Society recognized her claims,
and she was gaining even more attention than she desired.
As her strength increased she accepted invitations,
and permitted the circle of her acquaintance to widen.
It was part of her plan to become as much at home
in the social world as Graydon himself. Nor was
she long in overcoming a diffidence that had been
almost painful. In one sense these people were
to her simply a means to an end. She cared so
little for them that she was not afraid, and had merely
to acquire the ease which results from usage.
Diffidence soon passed into a shy grace that was indefinable
and yet became a recognized trait. The least approach
to loudness and aggressiveness in manner was not only
impossible to her, but she also possessed the refinement
and tact of which only extremely sensitive natures
are capable. A vain, selfish woman is so preoccupied
with herself that she does not see or care what others
are, or are thinking of, unless the facts are obtruded
upon her; another, with the kindest intentions, may
not be able to see, and so blunders lamentably; but
Madge was so finely organized that each one who approached
her made a definite impression, and without conscious
effort she responded—­not with a conventional
and stereotyped politeness, but with an appreciative
courtesy which, as she gained confidence and readiness
of expression, gave an unfailing charm to her society.
With few preconceived and arbitrary notions of her
own she accepted people as they were, and made the
most of them. Of course there were some in whom
even the broadest charity could find little to approve;
but it was her purpose to study and understand them
and lose forever the unsophisticated ignorance at
which Graydon had used to laugh.